Strictly Come Dancing
by Flames101
Summary: When Emily insists on Derek taking dancing lessons with her, can he make her happy while also keeping the guys from finding out what they're up to? Three-shot promoting the 2013 Profiler's Choice Awards (info inside). Morgan/Emily. Chapter 3 is new!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hey all! Here's another story I'm doing to help promote this **year's Profiler's Choice, Criminal Minds Fanfic Awards (details at the end of the chapter).** This one's a three-shot. Emily/Morgan. I kindly asked for prompts and, once again, **Classic Erynn** provided me with some excellent ones: sparkles, dancing lessons, a broken ankle. I also borrowed the title, Strictly Come Dancing, from the British show of the same name.

Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Criminal Minds, Dancing with the Stars or Strictly Come Dancing.

**Chapter 1:**

* * *

"Again, again!"

Derek Morgan groaned out his irritation. He sat on the hard bench in defiance, staring up at the older man mutinously.

"Monsieur Mor—_gen_… again, s'il vous plait; you have not quite mastered the lock step."

_Understatement of the century._ Derek glared at the man who bore a striking resemblance to Len Goodman, the head judge from Dancing with the Stars. Except Master Rene Laroche was French not British.

"Get up, get up," Laroche urged, this time actually taking his hand and tugging at him. _Geez, did this guy have any boundaries?_

He stood up just to get him off his back, only to hear laughter from nearby. He looked past Master Laroche to see his real taskmaster in a fit of giggles. Well, he was glad one of them was having a good time. Irritated as he was, he couldn't help the pleasure he felt whenever he set eyes on Emily.

Emily Prentiss, first his partner in the field, now his partner for life, and they were going to make it official in a year's time. But first, the lovely brunette was set on putting him through some serious torture in the form of dancing lessons.

When she'd first come to him suggesting the lessons, he had to admit, he'd outright laughed in her face, thinking she was joking. Derek had quickly come to learn that she had not been kidding.

Once he figured out she was serious, he listened to her proposal: Emily wanted to learn ballroom dancing for, 1) their wedding; and 2) so they could enter competitions. Basically, she was bored ever since returning from London, now jobless, and she needed a hobby.

Now, here they were, one week away from the competition where they would perform the ambitious Quickstep and he had yet to master the three characteristic dance figures of the Quickstep. They were, essentially, doomed.

"Come on," Emily said, clearly amused. "Our time's almost up, anyways."

He sighed. He didn't want to, but her eyes sparkled hopefully, so he moved into place, readying himself in hold position. Emily moved into his arms, giving him a big smile, before surprising him with a short kiss.

"Thank you," she murmured.

And this was why he'd agreed to the lessons; not only because she was a woman who more than knew her way around a gun, but because it made her happy. He'd give his right foot if it made her happy.

"Good, good," Master Laroche exclaimed, moving to the sound system. "Dès le début!"

Morgan braced himself as the first bars of Queen's Another One Bites the Dust started up, Emily's favorite song. _In three, two, one… run!_

* * *

"You come again tomorrow, oui?"

"What?" Morgan jumped in surprise. As far as he'd known they would not be back till Wednesday, three days before their performance. "Ah… I don't think—"

Emily quickly rushed to his side, tugging at his arm, urging him behind her. "Of course, of course," she assured, nervously throwing him a look over her shoulder. "We will be back first thing in the morning. Eight am, like we agreed."

Morgan shot her a wide-eyed look which she promptly ignored.

"Dieu merci!" Master Laroche exclaimed. Then he went on to sputter very quickly, while pointing and gesturing at him, so fast that his high school French could not keep up. He did catch the words deux, gauche, and pieds. _Two left feet?_ he thought angrily_. I'll show him what these two left feet can do!_

He took a menacing step towards the man. Emily took one look at him and grabbed his arm once again, halting him.

"Thank you for everything," she said swiftly. "We'll see you tomorrow!"

She tugged on his arm, causing him to take a few steps backwards. Master Laroche waved his fingers at him. "Bye, De—_reek_!" he called, all pleasant, not like just thirty minutes ago he wouldn't have thought twice about tying him to the dance floor to practice all night.

Without a word, he turned around to face the direction they were moving. Emily took his hand in hers, swinging them happily as they walked through their local community center. His exasperation melted away as he glanced over and saw that she was practically beaming.

_Your right foot, remember?_ he reminded himself.

"Thank you," she said again. "I know this isn't your thing; and I know Master Laroche can be a little…"

"Annoying," he supplied helpfully.

She shot him a wry smile. "I was going to say exuberant, but ok…I guess he can get on the nerves…" _Second understatement of the night._ "But this is important to me. And I can't tell you how much it means to me that you're taking it seriously. So, thank you."

Emily bestowed upon him a warm, grateful look and suddenly he felt guilty. _Really, Derek, is it too much to ask to learn a few moves for her, the woman you love?_

"Emily, you've got to stop thanking me," he lamented. "I'm happy to do it."

"You're happy to dance?" she asked, incredulously, as they reached his parked SUV.

"Ok… not so happy to dance, exactly… _but_, I am happy that you're happy. Does that count?"

She laughed, going to the passenger side. "It does." They got into the vehicle and she turned to him. "What can I do to make this easier on you?"

He smiled. "Just keep making sure the guys never find out about the competition and we're good."

It was one thing for Garcia or JJ to know he was taking lessons. If Hotch, Reid, or heaven forbid, Rossi were to find out, he'd never live it down. He could only imagine the grief he'd get from them. Yeah, they could never know.

"Will do!" his fiancée guaranteed.

* * *

Well that's it for this chapter. I hope you enjoyed and I hope you'll let me know what you think! Next chapter coming soon!

French translations for those curious (from google translate):

Monsieur: Mister

S'll vous plait: please

Des le debut: from the beginning

Diex merci: thank goodness

Deux: two

Gauche: left

Pieds: feet

**NOMINATIONS HAVE STARTED FOR PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS FANFIC AWARDS! Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for the annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards on fanfiction . net! Help us choose the best of the best of the CM stories on fanfiction . net, and let your voice be heard. Please check out the nomination ballot and rules at the ProfilerChoiceAwards2013 Forum. All rules and information are on the forum. Nominations are due October 31st. All entries with ten or more categories filled out are eligible to win one of two Amazon gift cards!**

**As a bonus, all ballots, regardless of the number of categories, received before October 1st will be eligible for a special Amazon gift card drawing!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hey all! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Here's the next one. It's quite a bit shorter, but the last chapter should be up soon. Hope you'll let me know what you think, thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Criminal Minds.

**Chapter 2:**

* * *

"No, no way!"

"Come on, Derek, please," Emily pleaded. He shook his head firmly. "Too bad. It cost a hundred dollars and it's non-refundable."

"A hundred dollars!" he exclaimed.

Morgan looked at the scrap of fabric he held in his hands in a new light. It was a flaming red shirt, long-sleeved, with fringe hanging from the underside of the arms. Fringe wasn't all there was. The entire front of the shirt and back was adorned in sparkles, glitter, and sequins. The shirt was, in a word, flashy.

"Emily," he said from behind his desk, she'd come to see him at work, "you can't be serious."

"Why, what's wrong? I happen to think it's lovely."

"It sparkles!" He thrust it up to the lights.

"What's wrong with sparkles?"

"They… they clash with my… my nose," he flailed.

Emily's eyes narrowed, she was on to him now. "Derek Morgan, you will be wearing that to the competition! Not only was it expensive, but it matches my dress exactly!"

"Don't men usually wear suits in ballroom dances?" he tried one last time.

"Not this time. End of story," she finished, just as the door burst open.

They both looked towards the door in surprise.

"Oh, sorry," Rossi apologized as he came in. "The door was open a crack, so…"

Morgan quickly stuffed the red shirt back into the bag, but not before Rossi had caught a glimpse.

"What's that?"

Morgan shot Emily a panicked look. She rolled her eyes, nonetheless she saved the day. She snatched the bag from his hands.

"Something I bought myself that I thought Morgan might also like…" she said with a suggestive lilt. "Wanna see?"

Rossi looked tempted just before catching the 'say yes and die' look Morgan was throwing the man. "Uh, no… I'll pass. What you and Morgan get up to in your spare time is your business and yours alone…"

Morgan blew out a breath in relief; Emily raised an eyebrow at him in annoyance.

"Well, I've got to go… but you'll be there at the place, later, right Derek. For… the thing, you know…" She was trying to be covert about their dancing lessons, he could tell, but she was failing miserably. Rossi was shooting them a curious eye.

"Yes, I'll be there, see you later, Em," he said pointedly.

She frowned deeply, moving towards the door anyways. Thankfully she took the bag with the blasted shirt in it with her. "Good to see you, Dave."

"Yeah, likewise," he answered slowly.

And then she was gone.

"What…" Dave started. "Was that all about?"

"I don't know what you mean…"

"What place are you going to? For what thing?" Rossi continued to pry.

"Just—" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "—you know, some wedding stuff."

Pointing behind him, Rossi said, "Well, why didn't she just say so? What's with all the cryptic-ness?"

Morgan blew out a breath. "I don't know," he blurted out shortly. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got a lot of work to do."

Rossi silently held his hands up before him, as if he were shielding himself from Morgan. "Ok, ok, I give. Sheesh, don't have to take my head off." He dropped a file on his desk. "Here. Take a look at that, get back to me when you're not so grumpy…"

The man left the room then and Morgan felt terrible. He hadn't meant to snap. People were right, keeping secrets was a burden. But he shuddered to think what would happen if they found out he was ballroom dancing. The teasing would be endless.

_Unless…_

An idea struck him just then. It was pure genius, if he said so himself!

* * *

That's it for this chapter. Hope to have the final chapter up soon, by the weekend at the latest.

Thanks to everyone who alerted this story. Also thanks to my 3 reviewers: **Lexis4MorganPrentiss; Guest1; and Guest2.**

Don't forget…

**NOMINATIONS HAVE STARTED FOR PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS FANFIC AWARDS! Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for the annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards on fanfiction . net! Help us choose the best of the best of the CM stories on fanfiction . net, and let your voice be heard. Please check out the nomination ballot and rules at the ProfilerChoiceAwards2013 Forum. All rules and information are on the forum. Nominations are due October 31st. All entries with ten or more categories filled out are eligible to win one of two Amazon gift cards!**

**As a bonus, all ballots, regardless of the number of categories, received before October 1st will be eligible for a special Amazon gift card drawing!**

:)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay; here is the last chapter of Strictly Come Dancing. I hope you enjoy! And I hope you all will check out the Profiler's Choice Criminal Minds Awards 2013, the nominating period ends October 31st.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Criminal Minds.

**Chapter 3:**

* * *

Morgan pulled at the red silky shirt that Emily had provided him with. It wasn't only sparkly, but it itched, too.

"Stop that," Emily said, pushing his hand away like he was a child. "You look fine."

He looked down at himself. "Em, I look like a chandelier."

She tried to give him a stern look, but it quickly turned into a smirk. "You look… like a chandelier," she conceded.

They shared a laugh before he took both her hands in his. Staring down at her lovingly, he added, "At least one of us can pull off the sparkles. You look gorgeous, Emily."

The dress she wore matched his shirt in color and light. The skirt of the dress swung around her legs, perfect for the rapid movement and the signature kicks of the Quickstep. The neck of the dress plunged almost to her naval, perfect for… well, just perfect for him. She looked more than gorgeous tonight, she looked downright sexy.

"Thank you," she beamed.

"Mon dieu!" a shocked voice came from behind him. Morgan turned around to see that Master Laroche had spotted them and was quickly making his way towards them. "Are you not ready? You're on in three dances! Allons, allons!"

Yeah, three dances, they had another ten minutes, at least. He'd savor those ten minutes, happily, because what would follow was a two minute cringe-fest. Morgan felt sorry for Emily. She was good, and he so wasn't.

Still, they followed their teacher towards the main ballroom. He was ready to get this over with. Before they could reach it, though, they were stopped by an excited looking Garcia.

"Oh my God, you match! You two look adorable!"

Morgan noted Master Laroche's perturbed glance, he held up a finger indicating they'd need a minute. The eccentric dance master whirled around in a huff, clearly not liking being held up.

_Whatever…_ he thought, turning back to face the two women just in time to see Emily lean in and hug their friend.

"Thanks for coming, Penelope."

"Wouldn't miss seeing you or my chocolate twinkle-toes dancing the dance of love in a million years," Garcia explained, hugging his side.

"Isn't that the tango?" Emily corrected.

"I always thought the dance of love was sex," Morgan gave helpfully, grinning widely. That earned him an elbow in the rib cage from his girlfriend.

"Where's JJ?" Emily asked.

"She's coming; she's running a little late."

"You came alone?" Derek wondered aloud, knowing his best friend did not enjoy a solo outage.

"Not… exactly…" she said slowly, visibly bracing herself as he suddenly did the same.

At that exact moment, Kevin walked up to Penelope and put his arm around her shoulders. "Hey guys, how's it going?"

Derek turned his shocked face first on Emily, who looked just as surprised, clearing her, then on Penelope.

"What?" she exclaimed. "When you meant the guys, you didn't mean Kevin, did you?"

"To be fair, I am a guy, honey," Kevin interjected.

Morgan shot her a look that said 'that's exactly what I meant!'

"Oh, come on," she replied. "Yeah, sure, Kevin is a guy. But you've got nothing to be embarrassed about." Morgan just groaned. "Ok, fine. Kevin collects dolls! There, you're even."

Kevin looked absolutely horrified. "They're collectable Justice League _action figures_!" he protested.

Garcia snorted. "You play with them _and_ do voices, they're dolls."

Kevin looked very forlorn just then and Emily patted him on the back sympathetically. Garcia, realizing her blunder, quickly added, "But, its ok; your Batman voice is adorable! And your Wonder Woman is spot on."

She seemed about to continue, but Morgan, empathizing with his fellow man, cut in, "Baby girl, quit while you're… Actually, you're far behind now. Just quit."

Garcia harrumphed. "Fine, fine…" She paused for a moment. "There's a funny looking man over there, making crazy hand gestures towards us."

They all turned around: Master Laroche, making come here gestures. It looked like their ten minutes were just about up. "That's our dance teacher," Morgan offered sullenly.

"We're going to find our seats," Kevin said hastily. "Good luck!"

"Good luck!" Garcia threw over her shoulder as she was guided away.

They watched them go silently.

"Poor, Kevin…" Emily stated. Sharing a look, they couldn't help themselves, laughter burst from their lips, definitely helping to lighten the moment and get them ready for the dance.

"You ready," Emily asked after a minute.

"As I'll ever be…"

* * *

_And… here we go. _Morgan counted down the music in his head. _Three, two, one…_

He reached for Emily's hand to twirl her in front of him for their finishing stance. But the second before his hand would have made contact with his fiancé's, he caught sight of three very gleeful looking faces in the audience.

_What the hell?_ he thought, panicking. "No, oh, hell no!"

"Morgan!" Emily exclaimed.

He looked to her, but it was too late. The second it took to scope out the masses was all it took to miss Emily's twirling body. All he could do was lunge uselessly for her and watch as she rolled painfully across the recently waxed, hard floor. A second later he heard her cry out in pain.

Forgetting all about the audience and who was occupying it, Morgan knelt beside Emily, seeing she was grasping her ankle.

"Emily!" he said in alarm. He looked down at her worriedly, realizing this was all his fault. He felt immensely guilty.

She looked up at him with watery eyes, obviously hurting. Whether the pain was all from the fall, or if it had slightly to do with his embarrassing misstep, he wasn't entirely sure. "I think it's broken," she said through gritted teeth.

"Sir, we need you to step aside so we can check on your partner."

Morgan did just that, allowing the on-site trainers to assess Emily's injuries.

"Oh no, Miss. Emily, Miss. Emily, my star pupil!" Master Laroche ran on to the floor. He went to Emily's side, in tears like she'd just been mortally wounded. "Miss. Emily!"

"I'm all right," she said, waving him off.

"Sir, please, step aside, we need room to work," the trainer chided.

Master Laroche stood up reluctantly, coming to his side instead. To Derek's surprise, he got a hard slap to his arm. "Ow, what the hell, man?"

"How could you, De—_reek_? How could you not catch Miss. Emily?"

_Yeah, how could I?_ He looked across the room to see Hotch, Reid, and Rossi watching on in worry.

* * *

Morgan let out a sigh as he exited the emergency room, re-entering the waiting room as per Emily's request. According to her, she was sick of his hovering. Oh and his apologies. But he couldn't help it, he felt horrible. He'd let his girlfriend, his partner down.

He spotted the group of people in the waiting room, all waiting for him. He let out a groan at the prospect of confronting them. They'd held up on their teasing, but he knew once they knew Emily was going to be ok it'd come.

Bracing himself, he walked into the fray.

"How is she?" Rossi asked immediately.

"A fractured ankle and pissed off as hell," Morgan confessed.

Reid, Penelope and JJ looked sad for their friend. While Hotch and Rossi shared a look that had him on his guard.

"So," Hotch began slowly. "Whatever possessed you to take a turn on the dance floor?"

"Aaron!" JJ scolded.

"It's a legitimate question, sweetheart. I mean, come on, look at what happened."

"Yeah," Rossi put in, now out right grinning. "Emily would have stood a better chance against an un-sub than she did you, Derek."

"Funny, Dave, very funny," Derek said drily. "Ok, bring it on."

"What?" Dave replied innocently. "Really, we were blinded by your talent."

"No, Dave, I think that his shirt," Hotch corrected. The pair cracked up.

"Oh, a shirt joke, how original. Anything else? Come on, now. Get it out of your system."

"No, no, we're done," Hotch assured, still snickering.

"Good, good," he said. Now it was his turn to grin from ear to ear. "Because, Emily and I got you all a present for showing how _supportive_ you can be."

He pulled out several envelopes from his back pocket and one by one, starting with the girls and ending with Hotch and Rossi, handed them one each. This was it, his back-up plan for if the guys found out.

"Hotch, why is he grinning like a crazy man?" Dave stage-whispered to him.

"I don't know, Dave. I'm afraid."

"Open—" he started, but was cut off by Garcia's squeal of delight.

"No way! Derek, you're awesome! Thank you!"

"You're welcome, baby girl," he said genuinely.

He turned his eager, kid-on-Christmas-morning look on Hotch and Rossi, waiting expectantly.

Slowly, they went to it, the sound of tearing envelopes deafening as he waited. Hotch got his open first. "Lessons for a group—

"—_Cha-cha?"_ Rossi finished incredulously.

"Yep!" Morgan said, delightedly. "Oh and we totally expect you to perform it at our wedding."

"What?" Hotch exclaimed. "You can't be serious—"

"Honey, this is fantastic," JJ countered and then added more sternly, "We're doing this."

Dave was laughing his head off, thinking he was in the clear.

"What are you laughing at? If I'm going down, so are you!" Hotch said sullenly.

"Nope!"

"Uh, yeah, you are. Emily's got two friends lined up just for you and Reid," Morgan confided happily.

"Yay!" Garcia exclaimed, background to Hotch and Rossi's groans.

"Oh, and look, here comes your dance instructor. I'll introduce you, _Master Laroche!_" he called, enjoying every minute of this.

* * *

The End ~ ~

Hope you all enjoyed.

Thanks for reading, and a big thanks for my 3 reviewers: **alexandriaZ; rmpcmfan; and Guest.**

And don't forget, time's running out to nominate your favorite Criminal Minds fics:

**NOMINATIONS HAVE STARTED FOR PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS FANFIC AWARDS! Calling all CM readers and authors! Join us for the annual Profiler's Choice CM Awards on fanfiction . net! Help us choose the best of the best of the CM stories on fanfiction . net, and let your voice be heard. Please check out the nomination ballot and rules at the ProfilerChoiceAwards2013 Forum. All rules and information are on the forum. Nominations are due October 31st. All entries with ten or more categories filled out are eligible to win one of two Amazon gift cards!**


End file.
